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by Taua



Series: Vanitas The Cop [1]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Family, Fluff and Angst, Other, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-18 09:22:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21273752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taua/pseuds/Taua
Summary: Standing in the freezing rain, Vanitas debates whether he should approach the house on the other side or not.Thankfully a little brunet shows up and makes the decision for him.
Series: Vanitas The Cop [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1533560
Kudos: 26





	Home

The rain was absolutely _freezing_.

It was unusually cold for the Destiny Islands, although it was October. The tropical area never really got snow or ice, even during winter, so it _should_ be warm enough to stay outside without the risk of getting chilblain. But the sharp wind turned the raindrops into needles and gave them an extra chill on the way down, as if it were thousand little icicles that pierced the skin rather than mere water.

Yet Vanitas was still standing at the same spot as four hours ago, staring blindly at the house on the other side of the street. His leather jacket gave no protection whatsover against the weather and his jeans were nearly black with moisture already. The legs shivered beneath while his feet were already numb just like the skin on his face, and given how much water was cascading down some of the black dye had surely washed out from his hair and strained the white turtleneck he wore beneath. His phone was probably ruined already as well, but that was something he could get replaced once he was back at the department. Perhaps he should have driven all the way with his motorcycle after all; at least then he would have a helmet to protect his head. Now it was currently sitting in the dry garage of the hotel where he rented a room for the night.

But somehow he couldn't bring himself to care.

In point of fact, after such a long time he doubted he would actually be able to do what he came for in the first place.

A few windows were lit on the front of the house. Sometimes a shadow would pass by, hidden behind thin curtains. The porch had seen better days but still needed no replacement. A slight touch-up of the paint and it would look as good as new, although it was already inviting as it was. No fence stopped people from walking up to the front door and take the three steps to the bell – he could easily stroll over and ring it.

Yet Vanitas... couldn't.

Why did he come, anyway?

Back home, after his superiors put him on vacation for a couple of days after a particularly straining case – two members of their troop got shot severely enough to end up in hospital – he felt like now was a good time to go back. He felt almost as pumped as when he first hacked himself into the old archive and looked up the file of his own case, when the anger towards his father reached yet another peak. It seemed like a good idea to reconnect with mother, now that Vanitas knew everything that was ever told to him had been lies and intrigues meant to keep him away.

She would believe him, wouldn't she? After all, she knew her ex-husband best after their years of marriage. When Vanitas said he had no idea and was manipulated into hating her, when he said he was sorry for never reading the letters she sent him out of spite and fear for the content... she'd believe him, right?

But... what if not?

Maybe twelve years were too long after all. Maybe his mother had in fact moved on and developed some hate herself, hate toward her son who turned his back without a flinch and never spared a single thought about her. Vanitas hated so much, too, he hated and detested and was angry at the entire world for most of his life already. Maybe that was a trait he got from her in fact.

Or maybe she had cut the ties for her own sake, pushed away the thoughts about her son just like Vanitas pushed her away as well. When he first arrived and took his spot on the street he had seen a kid walk out with a large umbrella with a sunflower-theme, a teen that couldn't be much older than ten. Maybe his mother found a new man, one who deserved her love and attention and mirrored it, and built a new life with him. A new husband along with a new child who finally gave her the happiness she deserved.

Who was Vanitas to step in and threaten that peace?

_He was her beloved son._

The memories from back then were foggy and spotted, more like sensations than actual images. Vanitas remembered an old, murmured melody he heard so often. A feeling of safety and warmth that engulfed him despite his flawed being. Mother had loved him, despite everything father tried to make him believe. To her his pale skin or platinum hair or red eyes never mattered. She didn't cast him away for the abomination he was. It even felt like she never agreed to give him a name like Vanitas either, letters that labeled him nothingness and failure.

Maybe some of that love was _still_ there. Maybe it could become a light that guided Vanitas out of the darkness he had been stumbling through for almost his entire life already.

It was a tiny fragment of hope – the last one he had.

But given he took the chance and it turned out to be in vain...

It would break him. It would be the last push for Vanitas to eventually cross the line, fall off the edge into his certain end. He wouldn't be able to piece himself together again, the darkness swallowing him completely.

Vanitas didn't know if he should take the leap or not.

And so more time passed by, his thoughts turning in circles as his body numbed more and more in the freezing rain.

… Perhaps it was better if he just left, disappeared as if he was never there in the first place. Vanitas could hope and fantasy for himself, picture the outcome he desired and push himself on with that rather than the truth. He could force through the harsh training and maybe even become one of the good guys, like he always dreamed of, a man who protected the innocent and made things right.

Or at least he could _try_.

But before Vanitas could convince his chilled legs to move the rain suddenly stopped – shielded away by an umbrella. The edge actually hit him square on the temple and if he was in better shape he'd probably already swung around some self-defense moves, however as it was he only managed a low pitched growl to the side.

“Ah, sorry, mister!” called a high voice as the umbrella lifted just a little higher to cover him better. “Just, you've been standing here already when I left so I wanted to ask if you're alright?”

Vanitas tilted his head around in order to glare the kid away – he had a hard time handling them as it was and he was in absolutely no mood to put up with one now – however before his snarl completely formed he froze in position.

The kid looking up at him had unruly, chestnut-colored hair and eyes in a shade of blue like the sky on a cloudless day. His face was round, cheeks tan and rosy, and he wasn't very tall, but his smile was warm and compassionate as he blinked up.

But what truly and utterly _unsettled_ Vanitas was the striking similarity.

The kid looked _just like him_. If they were the same age, they'd be _twins_.

Of course the kid itself couldn't see it. Vanitas wore a pair of sunglasses that covered a good part of his face and his features were considerably older. Yet he was baffled speechless at the sight, his heart beating faster and harder inside his chest the longer he looked at what seemed to be a boy.

After a while the little brunet cocked his head. “Well? You wanna talk about it?”

Snapping out of the daze Vanitas cleared his throat and prepared a snarky comment, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to insult the boy. So instead he crouched down, which made him just a few inches shorter than the kid. The brunet easily adjusted the umbrella and made a step forward, making sure they were both shielded from the biting rain.

“You know,” Vanitas started, still turning over words in his head, “You shouldn't just walk up and talk to strangers like that. I could be a bad guy, you know?”

The brunet hummed to himself. “True, but I know you're not a bad guy!” He grinned from cheek to cheek and sniffled, the pride practically oozing off him.

“Oh yeah?” Vanitas returned with a sneer.

“Yup,” the brunet replied with a nod. “When I came I saw the badge on your belt! And policemen are good men. That's what my mom always says.”

As if caught Vanitas slapped his hand to his hip and, yeah, he felt his badge beneath his trembling fingers. He had left the department in such a hurry he merely changed his jacket, dropped his gun by the stock-keeper, and swung right onto his bike. The badge on his belt kept him the trouble of identifying himself whenever he was out, cutting down the conversations by a few valuable sentences.

Apparently the brunet thought he was shy or something since he gave another hum before telling, “You know, my big brother is a policeman, too! Mom says he's still in training, but I'm sure he'll be out to help people soon enough.”

“Your big brother?” Vanitas asked, his heart beating just a little bit faster. Maybe he was talking... but no, that couldn't be.

The brunet gave a nod. “I don't know him, but I'm sure he's cool _and_ nice. Like all policemen are!” He rolled on the balls of his feet with a giggle.

“How come you don't know your brother?” Vanitas asked, his voice shaking a little, although it had nothing to do with the weather.

Some of the cheer seemed to leave the brunet as he worried his bottom lip. “Mom said he left with my biological father before I was born. They never visit, so I haven't got to see him yet. But! Maybe one day he'll come for vacation!” His face lit up again with renewed spirit. “Policemen work hard and have a lot to do, so they need a break once in a while, too. And our islands are _perfect_ for vacations, so I'm sure he'll drop by _eventually_.”

Vanitas was glad for the cover of the sunglasses; under the shield of the umbrella, he could hardly claim the tears in his eyes were actually raindrops.

The brunet still furrowed his eyebrows, as if he somehow sensed the change in the air anyway. “It's pretty cold and wet out here. Wanna come in? Mom makes _the best_ hot cocoa.”

“Uh, well,” Vanitas murmured, still fighting with the thickness in his throat and mentally cursing at himself for getting so worked up over some blabbing of a kid. However before he could find the words to decline the brunet grabbed him by the wrist and ran off, making Vanitas almost face-plant in the middle of the street while his legs convulsed from the chill and disuse.

In three short breaths they reached the porch and the brunet rang the bell, again rolling on the balls of his feet as he packed up the umbrella and Vanitas steadied himself on the bottom of the steps. For a moment he thought about making a break for it, his nerves getting the better of him, but then the door already opened and bathed them both into warm light.

“Hey there So-” The woman trailed off once she noticed Vanitas, their eyes meeting. “Who did you bring along...?” she slowly asked, much more wary than the kid, as she closed the small cloth over her shoulders a little tighter around herself.

“That's a policeman! He was standing on the other side of the street in the rain, so I invited him in,” the brunet happily told away before he turned around and waved his arm, beckoning Vanitas closer.

“It's actually police-_officer_, not _man_,” Vanitas lamely commented, briefly finding his composure again. “You've been saying it wrong the entire time.”

“But the ending man is _cooler_,” the kid insisted with a pout.

Vanitas merely shook his head a little, drawing in a deep breath. “Sorry for the disruption, ma'am. I'll be... right on my way.”

He already rose his hand in a brief gesture of goodbye, but then the woman – his _mother_ – made a step forward. “Please don't!” she called, a bit too loud for her own taste as she flinched before adding, “You're soaked to the bone... why don't you come in for a moment?”

“I'd rather not be a bother,” Vanitas murmured but stilled, his body urging him to walk up the steps and into the warm house while his mind still objected out of fear for the truth. What if his mother kicked him out as soon as she recognized him? And what should he say when she asked what he had been doing across the street?

However the smile she gave him was so warm... so inviting... that he eventually walked up the steps of the porch.

“You're no bother at all,” she insisted and made room for them. “Sora, why don't you go and get a few towels for our guest?” She turned her focus back to Vanitas as the boy, Sora, quickly pulled off his raincoat and shoes before hurrying inside. “My husband is a bit bulkier than you, but I'll gladly lend you some of his clothes while we get yours into the dryer.”

At the word 'husband' a chill spread in Vanitas' chest, but he pushed the feeling away. “That's too generous, really,” he mouthed, unable to keep the bitterness entirely off his voice. Not like he could blame his mother – his father was a complete asshole. There were more than one reasons he moved out as soon as he started training at the academy and the police department.

However he still glared once said husband, a tall, hairy guy, emerged from one of the doors to see what all the noise was about. Thankfully behind his sunglasses nobody noticed Vanitas' hostility, so he had to only focus on his body-language to play it cool.

In a flash Sora returned with his arms full of fluffy white cloth and a grin on his lips. “Here you go! Fresh out of the cabinet.”

Snorting Vanitas accepted the towels and shrugged off his jacket by the entrance along with his soaked shoes. He decided to ignore his hair – he was mean most of the time, but even he had enough manners to not ruin a borrowed towel with dye – and instead removed his glassed for a quick wipe of his face and neck. He kept his eyes closed as he worked, knowing they would instantly give him away, and only opened them once the glasses were back in place.

However what he forgot, in the heat of the moment, was the side-view of his profile once he leaned down to pull off his socks.

And then a hand latched onto Vanitas' wrist, tight enough to hold but not so much as to hurt. When he whipped his head up he found himself face-to-face with his mother, her blue eyes large and curious and shining with disbelief, and his heart skipped a beat when she reached up with her other hand.

“Don't,” he gasped, reaching up as well, fingers clenching down on one side of his glasses. But his grab instantly slacked when his mother gently brushed his fingers away, whatever will to resist evaporating when she carefully pulled the glasses off.

Out of reflex Vanitas closed his eyes and turned away, ashamed and even scared to some degree, but eventually he pried his eyes open again and glanced up almost shyly.

His chest tightened at the shocked expression across his mother's features.

Sighing he dropped his gaze again. “Sorry. I'll just...” Unsure what to say Vanitas trailed off and instead toed his shoes back on, ready to leave with at least a bit of dignity left in his being.

However before he could lean down to grab his jacket a pair of shaky arms closed around his torso and a weight pressed onto his front, so warm and soft and loving he took a cautious step backward. “Oh Vanitas,” she sobbed into his ear and squeezed down a little tighter, as if he would disappear as soon as she let go. “I'm so glad... welcome home, sweety.”

When Vanitas lifted his arms and closed them around her quivering frame, his own tears were already streaming down his cheeks. Sliding his eyes close he buried his face in the crook of her neck, her smell soothingly familiar, flowery and a bit sweet just like he remembered.

In the distance he registered the man shooing Sora away, quietly saying they needed a moment to themselves.

“I'm home,” Vanitas whispered back before his voice broke into a quiet sob.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Oh my God, I write so much lately...  
It's pure stress-writing really. Scared shitless of starting the new job, so my mind tries to occupy itself lol. 
> 
> I had the idea to this scene while I was writing the end of "Unexpected".  
Never have I pictured Vanitas like this, so far at least. Usually I keep him aloof, and he definitely is in most of the other pieces in this universe, however headcanon-vise a lot of emotional build-up went before this scene and unleashed itself a little. 
> 
> To be true, Sora and Mother are the only two people who keep reaching out their hands to him, even after all the dubious things he ended up doing. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this little piece :) 
> 
> Regards,  
-T


End file.
